You Can't NORBAC Again
by Simahoyo
Summary: Ebola is a real crisis and while NORBAC microbiologists' work is shanghaied by Congressman Riddlemeyer, Dr. Maura Isles is determined to end this crisis. But will she leave Boston for Liberia, or Toronto? Caution, Dr. Sandstrom opens his mouth, and bad language falls out. Crossover of Regenesis and Rizzoli and Isles. Jack Armstrong could play a role in her choice.
1. Chapter 1

You Can't NORBAC Again.

By Simahoyo

**Ebola is a real crisis and while NORBAC scientist's work is shanghaied by Riddlemeyer, Dr. Maura Isles is determined to end this crisis. Caution, Dr. Sandstrom opens his mouth, and bad language falls out. Crossover of Regenesis and Rizzoli and Isles. **

October used to be my favorite month. I loved the trees bursting into color, the crispness in the air, and the fact the Jack and I were still seeing each other. It had to be some sort of record for me. But then my cell phone rang, and it was Daddy.

"Daddy! How are you? It's so nice to hear from you."

"Maura."

His voice was so tight it scared me. He never sounds like that unless he was something awful to tell me. "Is Mom alright?"

"She's right here with me on the other line."

"Hi Darling."

Both of them? Who died? Aunt Sophie? "What's wrong?"

"I called before you saw this on the news. It came over the wire just a minute ago. Some of the doctors from Doctors Without Borders have died from Ebola."

My stomach was aching. I knew what he was going to say "Ian."

"Yes. I am so, so sorry."

I needed to process this. Mom shuts herself away to paint, and I just needed to be alone...

"Darling, do you need us to come to Boston? And please don't do anything reckless."

"Like flying to Liberia to help? I'm already mentally packing."

"I knew she would. I told you, Connie."Dad sounded worried.

"Bennie, calm down. Darling, I have something else I would really like you to consider. You remember me talking about that lovely young man Wes Fielding, from NORBAC? He had to take a six month leave of absence, and they are planning to organize several teams to go to West Africa now to help. The Americans insist on an American to replace him, and the Canadians are pushing for a Canadian. You are the perfect candidate."

I froze. I needed to process and suddenly all this? "Merde! I can't think about that right now. I'll call you back when I can think. Please."

"I understand, Kiddo. Backing off for now." There was a long silence. "We love you, you know."

I felt like an ungrateful rat when I just hung up. Then I let the tears go.

Time rewound itself, blips of sound, blurs of motion, and Mr. Isles was hanging up his telephone.

"She's taking it about like I thought she would. Poor kid."

Constance hung up her extension, and walked over to her husband. She reached out and rubbed his back. "She always needed time when she got bad news, and no matter what I thought of Dr. Faulkner, she really did love him."

"I know. What do you think?"

"If we leave by six, we can be there early tomorrow. That should give her time to grieve."

"Too fast, but I'm afraid she'll be on a flight to Monrovia if we wait any longer."

_Toronto, Canada_

David Sandstrom was stomping up the curved metal stairs to his office, his beat up leather jacket landed on the floor, as he turned and glared at his big blackboard covered with medical theories and other data. He wrote for a minute, then turned and barked out the door, "Mayko, Bob, my office! Now!"

The sound of his fellow NORBAC scientists running up the stairs was followed by the entrance of a young Asian woman, and a slightly older Russian man.

"Where are you on the spread of Ebola outside Sierra Leon and Liberia?"

"It has crossed into Guinea, and Senegal, with separate outbreaks in Nigeria and Congo, probably from travelers.", said Mayko.

"Fuck! What are the numbers, Bob?"

"4249 infected, and 2,458 dead in Liberia, 3,352 infected and 1,183 dead in Sierra Leon, 1,472 infected and 842 dead in Guinea, 68 infected and 49 dead in Congo, 20 infected and 8 dead in Nigeria, and only one infected in Senegal."

"Damn it all, what the hell are the governments of North America doing fiddling while this hemorrhagic fever is spreading like a wild fire? I wish Wes was here. I'd call Ottawa, Washington DC and Mexico city myself..."

"God no! You are not a diplomat! As much as I'd love to see you call Riddlemeyer a pompous, ambitious buffoon, we need cooperation.", Mayko had risen slightly from her chair.

"Bob?"

"You need to find someone like Wes. Only maybe someone who speaks Spanish...or French, because last time, well. It's only for six months and then Wes will be back. Somebody who can

work with..."

"Small minds and who speaks fluent bullshit? Yeah, I'll think about it. I'd hate for this to be the final virus. Mayko, start looking for a good replacement for Wes. Bob, back to working on a vaccine."

Sandstrom looked at the blackboard again and threw his chalk at it.

Mom had always taught me never to let my enemies see me cry. So I felt that crying was a private act. It takes either a lot of emotion, or a lot of trust for me to cry in front of anyone.

I had half emptied a box of tissues when I heard a familiar rap on my door–Jack. Before I thought about my red eyes and nose, tear tracks down my face and the swelling, I opened the door to him. Alarm crossed his face, and he opened his arms. I usually back away–even from Jane, and she is my closest friend, but I found myself in his arms, getting his shoulder wet.

He closed the door and held me, then led me to the sofa so we could sit down close to my tissues. The remarkable thing is I felt safe. He let me cry until I stopped to blow my nose and look at him. Concern was written all over his face.

"Are you able to talk about it?"

I nodded. The lump in my throat made it hard to talk. I took some deep breaths. "A friend died of Ebola. He was a doctor in West Africa."

Jack's eyes were sad, and he held my hand. "One of the doctors from your days in Africa? Were you close?"

I couldn't lie to him–and I know how to bend the truth so my body doesn't react, but I still have those twinges of conscience. "We had talked about getting married, but it didn't work out. He was dedicating his life to helping people nobody cared about, and I needed to come home."

"It's terrible what happened to him–he gave his life to those people. What was his name?"

"Ian Faulkner. He was an Australian doctor who smuggled medicines past armies, rebels and bandits.."My throat closed again.

"I admire that type of person. He lived for something."

Sometimes Jack astonishes me. I sat with my mouth open. "Yes, he did. So, I'm going back there as soon as I can make arrangements. I can help." I saw Jack take a gulp of air. He paled.

"I would never stand in your way, but I am honestly afraid of losing you if you go. And I am selfish enough to hope you can help fight Ebola in another way."

"I'm feeling so much guilt about how comfortable my life is in Boston–how safe I am, and how bad people's lives are in other places. Dad always told me not to try to solve problems by throwing money at them–and that is what I have been doing."

Jack stroked my hair. "You do more that that every day–solving crimes, helping families, speaking for victims and preventing the spread of disease. He put his arms around me again. "Don't sell yourself short. Hospitals will need instruction on how to handle Ebola patients. Couldn't you teach that?"

I was tempted. Here was a chance to stay at home, be with a man I was rapidly falling in love with–if only I could get my conscience to stop using that rude, harsh voice in my mind. "The problem is there and if we don't stop it in there, it will be a repeat of what happened with AIDS. Jack, my whole body hurts and I need to get some sleep...do you want to stay?"

Jack nodded. He was willing to be my living security blanket–and I knew I would be making some major decisions tomorrow.

_Karaga Island, Aleutian Islands, Alaska._

Rachel and Carlos was walking along the rocky breeding grounds of this lonely island. The wind was blowing Rachel's long, dark hair, despite the toque on her head. Carlos regretted not remembering gloves, and stopped to rub his hands between picking up various dead birds and putting them in sample bags. They had more terns than anything else, which was a shame because they were already endangered. Rachel stopped to pick up the carcase of a tufted puffin. Carlos shook his head. He always was delighted by puffins, and so many dead ones made this even more depressing. It didn't help that Rachel's annoying ex-husband, Congressman Riddelmeyer, had insisted they travel to this remote corner of the US because 20 people had come down with a virus which as beginning to look like a new variety of Avian flu. Rachel's light green eyes seemed to flame with her anger.

"Why are we doing this? Isn't there a Center for Disease Control? Right here in the United States? We need to work on Ebola, and Carl has us dinking around with this? He always did need to control everyone."

"Rachel, let's just get it done, so we can get back to our real work. I'm sorry your ex-husband is so difficult, be without Wes, we have no one to stop him. Wes needs the treatment you found for him, and we need him–if we can just find someone who could work with all those Canadian, American and Mexican egos...in three languages, we could be much more effective. Do we have enough samples?"

Rachel looked at her armload of sample bags and at the more than a dozen Carlos held. "I would say, 'yes.' Let's go."

They slept on the plane. Both had developed the habit of keeping a change of clothing at work, so they used airport restrooms to wash up, brush their teeth and call in to family.

_Toronto, Canada_

Back at the lab, Carlos and Rachel checked their bird samples down to the cellular level, and then looked carefully at each virus, checking every strand of DNA against the one the people had. Rachel was still steaming.

"It's a simple variation of Avian Flu. There is already an easy fix for it and a vaccine that should work. Damn it. I can't write up the report. I'll start sounding like David."

David pretend glared at her, but his eyes were dancing. I could write the report..."

When Rachel's jaw dropped, he grinned." I was joking. Carlos, you're our best diplomat, you write it."

Carlos nodded, adding under his breath, "Please get well soon, Wes."

Morning was better. I was cuddled with Jack, and my mind was working at almost normal speed. I was thinking about getting up when the doorbell rang. By that alone, I knew it wasn't anybody named Rizzoli. I threw on my robe and ran a brush through my hair. As I approached the door I knew it was my parents. Mom never gives up and neither does Dad. I opened the door.

"Hi, come on in."

We went though the hugs and kisses, but a small part of me was angry. If Mom really wants something, she is relentless. I took their coats and hung them in the closet.

"Please sit down. Would you like some coffee?"

"Darling, why don't you go ahead and get dressed? We can wait."

Merde! I had hoped for a better way for Jack to meet them, but as usual, things were spiraling out of control.

He was sitting on the bed with a puzzled look on his face. "What's going on?"

"I wasn't planning on this right now, but how would you like to meet my parents?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

You Can't NORBAC Again, Chapter 2

by Simahoyo

**Thanks for Follows, Favorites and Reviews!**

My nerves were on edge. Why can't I ever have just one thing happen at a time instead of watching the first domino fall and wondering how many more are lined up...I plastered a smile on my face, holding hands with Jack. He was tense too.

My parents were sitting on the sofa, fake relaxed and united in whatever they wanted. Mom's eyebrow lifted slightly, and Dad's nostrils flared. Good manners took over.

"Mom, Dad, this is Jack Armstrong." And then they turned into a pair of teenagers. I swear, I knew they would have a problem with his name–and I wondered what his parents had been thinking, but they probably didn't know old time radio and _Jack Armstrong, All American Boy._

It was through one of those that my parents met.

They got that gleam in their eyes, and they looked at each other. I would have to nip this in the bud now. "Jack, this is my father, E. G. Isles, and my mother, Constance Isles." I glared at them, and gave the tiniest shake of my head. Dad gave me his," Please let me misbehave" look. Mom looked from Dad, back to me and dropped her shoulders. Phew.

Mom extended her hand to Jack. "It's lovely to meet you." Dad followed up with one of his intimidating grips, which Jack survived as if Dad hadn't tried to break his hand. Dad always had trouble with any man in my life. I sat down, pulling Jack beside me.

Dad started his job interview act, but Mom was getting anxious. I suddenly realized why Jane liked to run away from uncomfortable situations. I was tempted. Jack answered Dad's tenth question about his background, then Mom cleared her throat. They looked at each other.

"Mom, didn't you have something you needed to discuss with me?" I felt Jack relax while Mom leaned forward.

"Ebola is a huge challenge. It will take the work of several nations to stop it where it is now, and eradicate it, or at least provide a vaccine. Liberia has only 45 doctors to serve the entire country. If you go, there will be 46.

NORBAC needs someone to organize a North American response to the crisis, which means finding ways to send not only doctors, but other medical staff, supplies, build field hospitals, coordinate shipping, deal with organizations and governments in Canada, the US and Mexico for six months while their usual administrator is in treatment for Super Hepatitis C. If you applied for this position, you could do so much more than the work of one doctor."

She had done her homework, She was working me like a major donor to one of her charities, but I knew there was nothing phoney about this–it was close to her heart. She was right too. There was a good chance to me to fill that role. I had five years as the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I had worked with Doctors Without Borders in Africa, I speak French, Spanish and some African languages and served on the boards of more than one charity. Mom clasped her hands together and looked me in the eye. I smiled slowly. She grinned and gave a little jump while still seated.

"Who do I send my C.V' to?"

"To whom...", said Dad automatically. Grandma Isles was still correcting my grammar using Dad as her proxy. Mom ignored him,

"Doctor David Sandstrom. I have the address here.", as she took his card from her pocket...the Boy Scouts have nothing on my mother as far as being prepared.

_Toronto, Canada_

David Sandstrom finally got to the pile of mail on his desk. He sorted the envelopes like a deck of cards. It was amazing how much junk mail an international microbiology lab got. He round filed those. A letter from his daughter, Lilith, which he slipped into his pocket. He'd read it at home after dinner. One letter was handwritten and postmarked Boston, Massachusetts. Probably another hopefull for Wes' job. It was expensive paper, and he opened it more out of curiosity than anything else. He already had fifteen of these, and this one was rather late.

Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. What the hell was a commonwealth? She had some decent administrative experience, was published in several medical journals...so far, so good, but did she know...yep, French and Spanish and Serbian? Ah, experience with MSF in Africa, speaks 2 African languages. The references nailed it–the governor (was that the same as a Provincial prime minister?), of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and the heads of some big charities. He sent her an email asking her to come up to Toronto for an interview. Then he went down to the labs to push Rachel to look for practical ways to kill off the Ebola virus in infected humans.

That weekend, they were all so tired they took a day off, gathering at David's loft, while Rachel took her turn cooking–something. They rotated among them. Everytime Bob cooked it was spaghetti, so Rachel's fried catfish, cheezy grits and stewed summer squash were a welcome change. They gathered around the long table and started passing the food around. Mayko took a spoonful of grits and passed them to Bob.

"Have you heard from Wes, Rachel?"

"Yes. He emailed me last night. The treatments seem to be working." She was beaming.

Carlos gave David a look. "Have you found anyone you like to coordinated the efforts against Ebola yet?"

David sat back in his chair–"Yeah, I think I may have. Anyone heard of a doctor Maura Isles?"

Blank looks went around the table. Then Bob spoke up. "I read some articles she wrote in the New England Journal of Medicine–one was on using water borne bacteria in a corpse's lungs to pinpoint the exact place of death. It was very interesting, because the problem was locating the precise source of water in the lungs of a drowning victim. The victim was found in the ocean, but the chemical contents proved to be rainwater, while the bacteria placed it where fish had been processed..."

"Thanks, Bob. At first I was wondering how a Medical Examiner might fit in here, but it checked out her references. The Governor of the Commonwealth–what the hell is that, Rachel?"

"It's an old-fashioned term for state."

"Oh, well, he had some great things to say about her, but then he had hand written a note at the end saying, 'When those 6 months are over, I want her back!' Impressed the hell out of me. I'm gonna check her for a backbone because whoever I hire has to be able to stand up to Riddlemeyer."

"And you.", said Mayko with a smile.

"Oh yeah, that's a given. She'll be up here on Tuesday–you can all take a peek as she walks by–ten thirty. Any questions you want me to ask her."

"Yes, find out if she's a Republican. Carl will try to use that to get what he wants." Rachel frowned. "And he'll try to threaten her if she's a Democrat."

"Check her Spanish,", added Carlos. "I've heard you try to speak French, David, and it's a disaster, my friend."

"I'll let you do that, Carlos. How the hell would I know?"

"Don't forget you have to let the member nations vet her. You know the science, but they are paying her." Mayko's voice was serious.

"I'd feel better about that if any of them knew the first fucking thing about who we need."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

You Can't NOBAC Again, Chapter 3

By Simahoyo

_In the air over Ontario_

I was on the phone, heading to NORBAC for a job interview. I caught myself playing with the ring on my left hand ring finger. I don't know how many generations of Armstrongs wore it, but the patina was deep and the sixpence was worn.

I thought back to the look on Jack's face the day before I left. I knew something was going on with him–and since it was too soon for me to accept a proposal, I was really relieved when he took out this ring and, well, he honestly looked frightened.

"Maura, with you thinking of leaving, I just wanted to let you know how much I'll miss you, because if this Sandstrom guy doesn't hire you, the man is too stupid to live."

I opened my mouth, and then realized it would be a good time to stay silent.

Jack showed me the ring. "It's old and battered, but it's got a story to tell. My ancestors came to this country as indentured servants in the early 1700's. To mark his servants, the master put a sixpence in their ears. After seven years they were supposed to get some of the master's land–and of course, he never gave it to them, but he let them keep the sixpence, so Elijah Armstrong to where the land was cheap and money was rare and bought land with that sixpence. He always said, 'No matter how bad things get, good things can happen.' You are the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Will you wear this and think of me while you are gone?"

I lost Ian and gained Jack. Now I was hoping to help the forgotten people of West Africa. Jane would say my life had more ups and downs than an elevator.

_Toronto, Canada_

The other doctors had gathered at Bob's station because they knew the mysterious Dr. Isles would have to walk past them. They hadn't been able to tear Carlos away from his research, but they expected him any second. At ten fifty, the doors opened and a beautiful blonde woman walked past. She was dressed in designer clothing. Rachel had seen plenty of courtier clothing as a congressman's wife. The click of her high heels, elegant purse and briefcase all added to the impression.

As she went up the stairs to David's office, Mayko muttered, "Well, she's hired." Rachel nodded her agreement. "Thank's a given." At that point Carlos joined them.

Bob looked at them quizzically. "I felt nervousness–just a little, a tiny bit of anger, and a lot of determination." The four doctors exchanged grins. "Maybe David has finally met his match.", said Carlos.

When he heard the knock at his door, David opened it, and his eyes widened in appreciation. "Wow, I hope to hell you're Dr. Isles." And Maura offered her hand.

"Yes, you must be Dr. Sandstrom. I assume I'm on time."

David motioned her into his office, moved some files and offered her the now empty chair. Maura was looking at the blackboard.

"That's a variant of Avian Flue."

"Yes, it struck the Aleutian Islands."

She frowned slightly. "Isn't there a major push to end the Ebola crisis?""Yes, but we have a US Congressman who has a lot of piddely projects for us instead."

She opened her purse and started taking notes on a little memo pad. "Which Congressman?"

"Carlton Riddlemeyer, undersecretary of the House Science and Technology Committee."

"Ah, speak to the Committee chair, La Mar Smith. Just don't let his get you to discuss climate change. Point out that Riddelmeyer is undermining his authority."

"You know your way around the US Government?"

"Not really. I have a nearly photographic memory. And my father is a newsman."

David gave her a thumbs up, grinning. "I like your CV. What would you do to get things started to keep Ebola from spreading further that it had already."

Dr Isles thought for a second, then started to outline her plan. "At this point, we need to expand the medical personnel, because right now they average 2 doctors for 85,000 people in West Africa. I expect we can talk several countries except possibly the US into allowing medical students to count one year working on Ebola to be substituted for a year of one of their hospital rotations as interns.

When I read the charter for NORBAC, I noticed there is nothing that excludes other North America nations from joining. Grenada and Dominica have several medical schools, and those students might be persuaded to go to West Africa."

David's jaw dropped. "You read NORBAC's charter? I haven't even read the fucking thing. Anyway you're hired." He sat closer to her, looking into her eyes. She looked away. David reached out and touched her hand, then leaned forward. Closer and closer until she put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him away.

"I'm in a relationship."

"He's not here."

"I'm serious about him."

"Damn it to hell."

"I'm still hired?"

"Actually, I'm not authorized unless all three member nations vet you and agree with my choice."

"So, essentially, you lied."

"Misled you."

"Oh, that makes it perfectly alright."

"Yeah. Come on down and meet the people you'll hopefully be working with most of the time."

_Bob's Work Station_

By the time David brought Maura to Bob's workstation, even Bob looked. "Everyone, this is Dr. Maura Isles. If everything goes my way, she'll be our interim administrator and heading up the Ebola Project."

Mayko wiggled her eyebrows at Rachel. "Mayko is our best technology/computer expert, plus she's a whiz with tracking diseases geographically." Mayko waved and smiled.

"Rachel can make strands of DNA sit up and dance."

"Not really.", said Rachel. "Are you a Republican or a Democrat?"

A quizzical look crossed Maura's face. "Neither. Why?"

"My ex-husband will want to know some way to control you. Who did you vote for for President"

"My friend, Dr. Jill Stein. She's the one I agreed with."

"Oh good. He won't know quite what to do with you.", Rachel grinned.

"Oh hell, I almost forgot–French test..."David looked around the lab and yelled, "Who the hell speaks French–anybody?"

A short, black woman yelled back, "I do?"

"Good, I need somebody to give Dr. Isles her French test."

The woman joined them "What the hell was your name" said David.

"Dr. Du Roche."

"Yeah, well talk to her in French."

Dr. Du Roche shrugged one shoulder.

Êtes-vous sûr de que vouloir travailler avec lui ?

Je serai là uniquement pour 6 mois-et ma mère a son coeur sur moi ce faisant.

Je veux lutter contre le virus ebola, et avec ce travail, je peux faire plus que comme un médecin en Afrique de l'Ouest. J'ai aussi perdu un ami cher à ebola-il fut médecin avec MSF.

Oh, je comprends.

(Shit. Are you sure you want to work with him?"

"I'll only be here for 6 months–and my mother has her heart set on me doing this. I want to fight Ebola, and with this job, I can do more than as one doctor in West Africa. I also lost a dear friend to Ebola–he was a doctor with MSF."

"Ah, I understand.")


	4. Chapter 4

You Can't NORBAC Again, Chapter 4

By Simahoyo

Dr. Du Roche switched to English. "Her French is so good, I would think she grew up in Quebec."

"My mother did."

"Ok, so that explains it. You can go for now."

"Thank you, Dr. Du Roche.", added Maura.

"Hey, Carlos!"

Carlos joined the gathering of scientists.

""Dr. Isles, this is Carlos. Name a disease, and he's probably treated it. He's from Mexico and the Mexican government is demanding someone who speaks Spanish."

"Probably, my friend, because they have tried to talk to you."

" Dr. Isles, ¿cómo fue su viaje a Toronto."

"Fue más corto de lo que esperaba, y el clima era muy bueno para volar."

"¡ Dios mío! ¿Dónde recogiste ese acento chileno?"

"Estaba visitando a un resort en Utah, donde llovió todos los días durante una semana. Entonces, jugaba a las cartas con Ernesto Vilchez y él me enseñó a Castillano."

"¿Lo había aprendido en una semana?"

"No había nada que hacer."

( " how was your trip here to Toronto?"

"It was shorter than I expected, and the weather was very good for flying."

"Good Lord! Where did you pick up that Chilean accent?"

"I was visiting a resort in Utah, where it rained every single day for a week. So, I played cards with another tourist, Ernesto Vilchez, and he taught me Spanish.")

You learned it in one week?"

"There was nothing else to do."

Carlos switched to English. "Other than a Chilean accent, her Spanish is more than adequate."

"Good, good. So, last, and certainly not least is Bob. He can do anything.

Bob squinted and jerked his head. "Not anything. There are things I am not capeable of–like cooking. I'm not very good at cooking anything but spaghetti..."

"I'm glad to meet you, Bob."

"Have I met you before? You look familiar."

"I don't recall meeting you, but I have attended several medical seminars..."

"NO. Now I remember it was on television, something with the Prime Minister –you were there and he was giving medals for something..."

At this point a horrified look crossed Maura's face. "I'm sure it wasn't important."

"And someone threw a pie in his face. You were standing right behind her..."

David started to laugh., "Oh shit, was that you? I saw that on The National, and I laughed my ass off."

"My mother is NDP, and her maiden name was Rial."

"Okay, I get it. So we don't send your photo along when we let the governments vet you. I'll bet they do a half-assed job anyway."

It must have worked not to enclose my photo–or who ever vetted me for Canada was NDP, but O found myself part of the confusing lab and office maze that was NORBAC.

I had taken one of Mom's paintings with me, as well as photos of, Jack, Jane, my colleagues from the morgue and the one of Daddy with me when I graduated from medical college. Mom couldn't be in it because she took it. I guess they didn't miss everything after all.

I went right to work, asking Grenada's and Dominicas's governments to get their governments to allow medical students to volunteer in the Ebola stricken areas in lieu of their last year of internship. Both governments were very co-operative,

Naturally, they would need places to work, so I asked the Canadian, American and Mexican militaries for hospital tents and cots. I studied the work of Falu Kekula and her, "Trash bag method" of Ebola protection."

Dad sent a photographer to have her show each step, both putting on, and taking off the trash bags, rain coat, rain boots, showercap and face mask. Then he published it as a step by step guide for medical personnel in six languages.

I didn't quite trust the face protection, so I contacted manufacturers of face shields and asked for donations. Now my office looked like a warehouse. So did my apartment.

Mayko was sidling along the boxes when she commented, "How are you going to get all this stuff there?"

"I don't know. The Red Cross is no help at all."

"You know that after you worked with Grenada and Dominica, they both joined NORBAC? Maybe you could get more North American nations to join, and concentrated on those with good shipping facilties like Panama?" Mayko leaned on a box of folding cots.

"That is an excellent idea. What about moving things around West Africa?"

"Catholic Relief Services and LDS Welfare. They actually show up. They don't charge and they have people living locally, especially the Catholics.""And I could ask the wealthiest Caribbean nations to join NORBAC. We could use their help."

"That would be Trinidad and Tobago and Barbados. And I came in to talk to you about the American Congress and some states pushing for barring to and from West Africa."

My heart sank. How would we get any medical personnel to those countries? "Back when people over reacted to AIDS, they called it, 'fraids.' I'm seeing it happen all over again,

"Yeah. Only this time they have, 'Eeekbola."

I felt something like an electrict shock go through me. "That's brilliant. We could use that. I'll get a press release out right away. Thank you, Mayko."

Naturally I sent everything to Dad first, and he made sure every single story got great coverage. Then all the rest would jump on it. It helps when your father runs a media conglomerate.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

You Can't Go NORBAC Again. Chapter 5

By Simahoyo

I love Panama. They shipped things by cargo ship, by plane and even in any leftover space in cruise ships. Then the Bahamas and Cuba jumped in and shipped all of the trash bags, rubber gloves, rain coats, shower caps, rain boots and face masks I could get donated. Falu Kekula saved so many people with her, "trash bag method ", she deserves her own stamp.

Then Congressman Riddlemeyer started to demand our undivided attention just as we were close to a breakthrough with a vaccine. I was angry enough to fly to DC and speak to LaMar Smith, Riddlemeyer's boss.

It was a very interesting meeting. Apparently Riddlemeyer had been falsifying reports, using NORBAC as his own little errand service and harassing his ex-wife. Congressman Smith left determined to deal with him. He also introduced a bill that required use of the Center for Disease Control before moving on to a higher organization if the CDC declared their need for help.

Just after Christmas, we got hit with a huge storm, and getting to work was an adventure. Mom had warned me about Canadian winters. She told me what to bring with me, and then made a point of telling me that when she first married Dad, how impressed she was by the warm Boston winters. One look out the window told me she hadn't been exaggerating.

The humps covered with snow were the cars. The buses has group to a halt and tightly wrapped people fought the wind walking to work. By know I knew that everyone at NORBAC was making their way into the office, except lucky Carlos, who gone to Mexico to check on an outbreak in a remote village.

I dressed in three layers, mostly in wool, before I even thought about putting on my heaviest coat, two layers of socks under my boots, two scarves-one around my neck and the other over my face, added a hat and gloves, picked up my cell phone and brief case and headed out to work.

Ordinarily a brisk mile and a half walk makes me feel energized. Today, I had to climb up and over ,of ice and snow not only on the side walk, but at each intersection Mom was right. Boston winters are warmer. I found a wind shelter in the door way of an office building, and called David

"What?"

"It's Maura. I'm not going to be in on time. I underestimated how long it would take."

The mean wretch laughed. "Having a little trouble with our Canadian Winters?"

'HA,ha. I have to get in. I'm expecting a call from Havana in 2 hours. They won't understand about the snow. I'm going as fast as safety will allow."

"Okay, I'll see you when you get here."

I had just gotten the full blast of wind in my face when my cell phone rang. I wasn't about to bother looking at who it might be. I leaned against a building and answered, "Dr. Isles."

"This is U.S. Representative Carlton Riddlemeyer. I am the Undersecretary of the Science and Technology Committee."

"Hello, I..."

"I have an entire list of important areas where NORBAC needs to send a team right away, and I understand that you, Dr. Isles, suggested that these items be taken up by the Center For Disease Control."

"Representative Riddlemeyer, I am walking to work through snow..."

"Don't interrupt me. I'm not through with you. I intend to end the Center for Disease Control and save the taxpayers some money."

I felt myself slip on the ice and went down on both knees–unfortunately I didn't drop my cell phone. Riddlemeyer was still telling me off as a nice little boy helped me up. "Merci.", I told him. I continued walking.

"So, don't push me, or I will see to it that you are fired from your position at NORBAC..."

"By the time you achieve that goal, I will be finished with my six months here."

"Well, then, I suppose you need to be reminded of your place in the scheme of things. You depend on the Media to publicize your work–and I can stop the Media from covering your work. I can also stop the Media from covering anything you do."

I heard myself use what Jane calls my, "poisonous honey voice"...after I stopped myself from laughing. "If it is that important to you–enjoy yourself. I have to get to work."

Once at work, I waited until I was cleaned up and warmed up before I called Dad and gave him the best laugh he's had in years. "He's probably thinking that a word to the beltway press will close down all your work. He's forgotten that NORBAC is not the good ole USA."

"It's more than Canada, the US and Mexico now. Six more countries joined–and they love me,"

"I'm proud of you, Kiddo Your Mom is too. Our friends are sick of our bragging."

"Oh Daddy, don't tease."

"I'm perfectly serious. Keep up the good work, and try to stay warm."

I hung up, and in walked Rachel. "What did you say to Carlton? He's gloating about his plan to ban you from the Media. Will that hurt your work?"

I motioned for her to be seated. "He doesn't know that that my father owns an international news conglomerate."

Rachel's lips formed an, "O", then a grin. "Oh, that's priceless. He'll huff and he'll puff and nothing will happen."

"Sad, isn't it?"

"Oh, just what he deserves. I wish I could see his face..."

Knowing Dad, He'd find a way to do just that.

Dad pulled some strings and the next thing I knew was that there would be a major press conference in Mexico City, with the President of Mexico, the Prime Minister of Canada, the Vice-President of the United States, and the heads of state of Grenada, Dominica, The Bahamas, Barbados, Panama and Trinidad and Tobago, with Carlos representing NORBAC.

Naturally, I tuned in to see what the announcement was. Mayko, Rachel, David and Bob came over to watch with me–now that the boxes were gone, it turned out they liked my kitchen better than David's

I had expected that Grenada, Dominica and Mexico would announce their programs to allow interns to count a year volunteering to fight Ebola toward a Medical licence, and Carlos' speech got big applause in my living room, but then Canada announced they would be doing the same, and every other nation, including the United States joined the program. By the end of the session, NORBAC had gone from six nations to nine,

"My God, woman, what did you bribe them with?", asked David.

"I'm thrilled. I can hardly believe it, but this is the best day of my life, so far."

"I'll bet Carl is furious. How on earth.

"Dad has a long reach."

"Now we just have to educate the politicians about Ebola.", said Mayko.

"And find a vaccine.", added Bob.

"And I'm sending you home to Boston for a week to see your boyfriend and family."

"What? I have too much work to do. I can't take a week off."

"I'm prescribing it. You're no use to me all worn out, so go...hang out with your morgue buddies and cop friends. Say 'Hi.' to your tortoise."

"Bob, what have you been telling David?"

Bob dropped his eyes. "I like your stories about Bass, your African Spurred Tortois. I'll bet he misses you. I miss by dog–and Jack because you talk about him all the time–and Jane and Suzie too. So, you could say, 'Hi!' to them and relax for a week, and then get right back to it–right?"

"You should go. You'll have plenty to do when you get back, and I think your Dad managed to let Riddlemeyer know his place in the world." Mayko winked at me. "Besides I looked up your boyfriend on line. He's cute."

So I went.

.TBC


	6. Chapter 6

NORBAC Chapter 6

By Simahoyo

_Boston, Massachusetts_

Evidently there had been quite a discussion about who would meet my plane. I go a text telling me to meet Jane at baggage claim, but both my parents were also there along with Angela and Suzie. Naturally it was a bit of a madhouse. Everyone hugged me, including Suzie and they were all talking at once. It was more insane than a Rizzoli family dinner.

Jane actually put her fingers in her mouth and whistled for quiet. "Okay, Maur, we divied up our time with you. Ma and I get tonight and tomorrow, and I take you into work so the guys and Suzie and everyone can spend time with you."

"Then, Darling, your Father and I get that evening and the next day until sunset–we saved the rest for Jack. Do you mind?"

I should have resented them making my plans for me, but I knew they missed me as much as I missed them.

"You obviously all wanted some time with me, so how can I complain?"

The conversational chowder kept up until I was deposited in Jane's car, along with Angela and my luggage, but only after another round of hugs and kisses. The sudden silence was palpable.

"A little much, aren't we?", asked Jane.

"I'm not used to it anymore. Tell me the news. Angela started right in. "Bass is fine and acts as if he misses you, although it is a little hard for me to tell. Your house is fine. Nothing is broken or stained because I kept up your rules about coasters and shoes on the sofa.

Jane rolled her eyes. "Tommy had to be reminded too."

"I found a new job–working at a Senior Center as Activities Coordinator. We do dancing and bingo. Local singers come in, and the most adorable 10 year old danced as Michael Jackson...I love it."

"It's impressive, Angela."

"Thank you."

"You won't believe who Governor Patrick got in for your replacement...", said Jane.

"Not Pike, I hope." The thought made my queasy.

"Have you ever met Dr, Vijay?" He worked in our morgue ages ago before he retired."

"I must have looked puzzled, but I honestly didn't recall his name. I shook my head.

"He's good. A very nice guy–smart. Getting a bit up there in age, but Yoshima helps him move the bodies, and he's an expert on insects. He said people used to call him, 'Bug.'"

"I'm relieved he is doing a good job. I was honestly afraid one of our two knuckleheads might take my place. Wouldn't it be wonderful if it was illegal to allow people to elect their county coroner. You've seen the results."

"No kidding. How are you getting on with your new co-workers? Are they anything like us?"

"Although nobody is quite like you, they are a little workaholic–some have changes of clothes at work. They are completely dedicated to their work and Dr. Sandstrom would drive me insane if I let him. The man cannot get through a paragraph with anyone without swearing."

Angela clucked her tongue while Jane laughed.

"Serves you right for always being on my case about swearing."

"I'm caught between my own preferences and the fact that the man is my boss. What do you have planned for tonight?"

"Ma made dinner. I'll bet you missed those, huh?"

"Words cannot express how much. If I had to eat Bob's spaghetti one more time...the poor man only knows one recipe."

"Thank you, Maura. I made eggplant parmigiana. Lots of spinach salad, meatballs–and I know you like my meatballs..."

"I love your meatballs."

We arrived at my house and I was so happy to be home, I caught myself tearing up. Jane and Angela took in my baggage for me and put it in my bedroom.

My home was spotless. I noticed a few items out of place, but considering the amount of time I'd been away, I was pleased. Then there was a familiar thumping sound. I looked and Bass was walking as fast as he could toward me. Bob was right. I had really missed him."Bass, I'm so happy to see you." I walked closer, closing the distance, and Bass stopped, bobbed his head and pushed against my leg. I knelt down to pet him, talking in my most soothing voice.

"Ah, I knew you'd find each other right away." Jane was standing behind me. I looked up and smiled. "Actually, he found me. It's a good thing he can't speak, because he knows everything, and I mean everything, about me."

"I'm going to have to find a turtle whisperer and get the goods."

"Tortoise, and he won't tell."

"I'll bribe him with strawberries and arugula."

"Ah ha, so you learned about his second favorite food." I stood up. Angela was slipping into the kitchen, and when she opened the oven door, the smell was heavenly.

Jane and I talked, with frequent comments from Angela, as we set the table. That brought back so many memories...funny, sad, aggravating, warm and wonderful.

"You have no idea how much I missed you both." Suddenly I was in a three way hug–laughing.

We talked for hours, then I invited Jane to sleep over in my room so that whatever she wanted to keep from Angela could be shared. By the time we got to sleep, I was afraid I would make Jane late to work.

It was a real role reversal when Jane had to wake me up. Apparently, I had forgotten about the time difference. Which was odd considering the amount of flying I had been doing. Maybe it was just so nice to sleep in my own bed that I didn't want to leave it. Jane finally dragged me out, and pushed me to shower and dress while she boiled eggs and made toast.

"Did the people at NORBAC wear you out?", she teased.

"I don't know why I'm feeling so lazy this morning. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone and checking in on my morgue."

"Ah ha! I knew that's what brought you back. It wasn't to see us–or me, your best friend–nope. It was to check on your morgue. So I take second place behind the dead people, huh?"

I laughed. Jane can always make me laugh. "No, Jane, you're first place, as always."

Jane suddenly turned serious. "I heard what you said when I showed you my engagement ring from Casey. 'What will I do without my best friend?' I didn't really get it until all these months with you gone. I wanted to ask you–was it because I might go away, or because you didn't really like Casey?"

I gulped. How could I answer that? "It was a selfish thing for me to say. I should have been happy for you. But it was partly that I would have missed you like my right arm. Even though we talk often–I do miss you. And, you know I can't lie. I didn't like the way he treated you. I'm sorry jane. I was being self-centered."

Jane put her hand on my wrist. "You are not selfish. You wanted me to be happy–and I wasn't happy all the way down deep–like you deserve. I'd gotten to know Jack a little better, and I like him because he makes you happy. And he's good to you. So, I'm not freaking out about that little ring he gave you–okay?"

We hugged.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

NORBAC Chapter 7

by Simahoyo

**A/N Sorry. My typing has always been a challenge, and it has been worse lately. Mea Culpa.**

I have worried coming back to my old workplace, that I might not fit in anymore. I half expected new faces—people I didn't know, and having to face the one who wouldn't be there—Frost. If I say so myself, I can act. I pretended not to be hit as hard as the others—but I had been hanging on to my emotions with both hands. I was, after all, Queen of the Dead.

I walked in with Jane and was greeted by people I knew nearly every step. Korsak hugged me and so did Frankie. Even Crowe said, "hello." I caught up with Korsak and Frankie, went to lunch with Jane, then down to the morgue. Suzie nearly tackled me in a hug, then passed me on to Yoshima and Louise. When I saw my replacement, Dr. Vijay, I did remember him from a funny presentation on entomology, and why he bore the nickname, "Bug."

"Oh, I remember you. You taught me why insects are so important in dating crime scenes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm enjoying the work and the people, but confidentially, my back is counting the days until you return permanently."

I must have showed my confusion because Suzie murmured, 'It's a joke.', and I nodded, thought about it and smiled. Between Mom's Franglish moments and Dad's oddball sense of humor I was still working to understand jokes.

The time passed quickly and I hadn't even gotten out the door before my parents and drove me to their house on Beacon Hill.

"That was quite an accomplishment with all those countries allowing medical students to count time fighting Ebola..."

"Even the US. I was so proud of..."

"She even told the mailman."

Ugh, I hate when they tag team me.

"Daddy, how did you get that news conference?" I managed to wedge in.

"I got Peter Mansbridge to do it and split the credit with CBC. You should have seen that little turd Congressman Riddlemeyer..."

"He turned positively purple...more of a burgundy, actually."

"Jack came over to watch it with us. It was great fun."

"Yes, Darling, you may have a winner there." At this point Mom crossed her fingers.

'He didn't even get mad when I had him investigated."

"Oh Daddy, did you have to tell him?"

"Apparently, you told him your dating history, and your mother and I have a proven record of making bad choices for you...so..."

I hadn't realized I had slapped my forehead until I did it. Too much time with Jane, obviously.

"And he's all right with it?"

"Oh yes. We have become fairly good friends. He comes over quite often."

This is not something I like to hear from my parents. They are good people, but even for me they can be too much. Inwardly, I'm afraid I shuddered.

"Oh, and Darling, we played all of our, 'Jack Armstrong, All American Boy' tapes for him. He likes them."

"Good. Uh, you haven't hit him with, 'Chicken Man' yet, have you?"

Dad squirmed. "Not yet kiddo, I'm easing him into it with, 'Burns and Allen.'"

Dad parked in the garage, And I gave a fond look at his car collection. As we were walking into the house, I could smell something delicious.

"Something smells wonderful. Did Cook make it or..."

"I made dinner.", said Mom.

I was so shocked I didn't move.

"She's been taking private lessons to surprise you."

"You succeeded, Mom. What did you make?"

She positively beamed. "Pork medallions with grapes in pomegranate sauce, mushroom soup and apple galette. And Benny—no garlic in the entire meal."

Dad laughed. Then Mom added, "and no hot stuff for you two either."

I'll admit that Dad and I looked at each other, envisioning a trip to a Thai restaurant sometime tomorrow. As it turned out, Mom's private lessons had paid off. My mother made a lovely dinner with her own hands. I was so proud of her. Dad and I did the cleanup. My parents had developed a habit of letting the servants go home early to spend time with their families after Mom's accident made them so much less servant dependent with no formal dinner parties. A sudden fear gripped me. Were they getting old? I'm thirty-eight, which put them in their sixties. Normal people retire in their late sixties—I looked at them again—There is nothing average about those two.

Mom disappeared for a minute and came back with a pad of drawing paper and a box of pencils. She was bringing back a part of my childhood. We sat at the table, while she handed me a sheet of paper, and got out her own.

"Now, you draw me, and I'll draw you."

"I remember my feet didn't reach the floor for a few years doing this together."

"I started it as a ploy to get you to sit still and stay out of—everywhere. Then you seemed to enjoy it."

"I did. The drawing lessons really helped with anatomy classes and so forth. I even drew a sketch of a criminal I saw for the police."

We started drawing, glancing at each other to get things just right. It was quiet, the scratching of the pencils the only sound until Dad's camera broke the spell.

"Daddy! I can't concentrate with the flash going off—please..."

Mom chuckled. "It isn't Christmas until one of us chides him about that camera."

"Hey, I can't draw a straight line. And I want to remember my two favorite girls like this."

"We know." I gave him a special smile so he knew he was forgiven.


End file.
